A Hot 'Cold' War
by akuoni
Summary: It's during the height of the cold war when these two find themselves alone. Unaware of their eavesdropper, they converse. A confession, twisted in this twisted time. Teen Just in case for mild language and war theme.


**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the charactors in this story. They belong to Hidekayaz.

* * *

He hated that man.

Hated him with a cold icy hate that never thawed.

He hated how that man could enter a room. Everyone would stop and turn to that man. Like those oh so precious sunflowers, they would focus on that man.

He hated how that man would glare at him with plasmaeyes that burned with an inner fire. That burning glower that made him forget, if only for a moment, the harshness of winter.

* * *

He hated that man.

Hated him with a passion as hot as the deserts of his lands.

He hated how that man could enter a room. His very presence could freeze the marrow of those terrifying ghosts, but instead froze the marrow of the living.

He hated how that man would stare at him with those cold violet eyes that hinted at cracks in glacial ice. That cold smile that was anything but friendly, but made him remember when the cold wasn't so bad.

* * *

It was with trepidation that the bushy-browed blond man entered the meeting room. At the left of the small side table sat the biggest of the gathering; at his right, the strongest. There were others, he knew, but they and he were mere observers in this deadly game the two played.

"Why do you fight so hard товарищ Америка?" the taller said softly. The smaller growled as he continued. "It would be far less painful for you. Just join Мать России."

The smaller one jerked as fire rained from the sky in a far away land onto people who did not belong and metal flew to bite and bring death and pain. Red bloomed on his white undershirt like a twisted carnation when it continued. By the time the skirmished had ended, he was left feeling the latest gash that had opened beneath his uniform and bomber jacket. He looked up at the other.

"Ivan," He ground out, breathless with pain, harsh with unshed tears, strong with is infamous pride, "I won't let your accursed ideals corrupt anyone else. I have watched you turn China, kept you from barricading Berlin, fought against your ideals while Im Yonsu was split into two, and laughed with relief when your beliefs were eradicated in Philipines. I will save Vietnam from your bloody clutches. I am angry that Cuba has become Marxist, but I can do nothing for him at this point."

"Поэтому упрямый." The taller muttered to himself. The bushy-browed voyeur did not hear, but he was aware the dangers if he were to be discovered by the two. He stayed where he was. "I, должны исправить."

"I hate you so much, Russia," Said the smaller man. Both the watcher and the taller man blinked as he continued, voice rising with distress, "I hate you so much I fucking _hurt_. I hate your cold eyes. Your empty smile! Your _stupid_ beliefs in a God_Damned_flawed system! I hate you so much I can't stop thinking about you. I want to hurt you. Hurt you so bad you won't ever be able to…"

He stopped yelling and looked down. His last words were whispers, but even if everyone had been here, the watcher knew that those final words would have been heard throughout the entire room. "Never be able to hurt anyone else…"

"Vat is this you are saying глупых Америки?" Replied the other in a slightly strained voice as he got up, "You are delirious. I shall fetch the врач."

№ Пребывания. Прослушивание," came the sharp commands in Russian. The taller stilled in surprise. He had never heard the other use another language, only his own twisted American English. Now he knew why. The sounds of another country sounded somehow wrong in ones ears. It was like… General Winter using words instead of his silent communication, "You will _listen_ you goddamn bastard. I hate you. I hated how I needed to fight you. I hate how I want to see you every single goddamned day. And I hate, that no matter how I deny it, I want you. I hate you, because you made me love you."

The bushy-browed observer quickly vacated, knowing it was time to retreat.

"You are ill товарищ," repeated the taller desperately, fearing to believe the truth of the statement, "I will call when you are better."

"No you won't," came the tired reply. The other looked at him with that plasma-blue gaze, "We will fight. We will continue to hate eat other. We will want to kill each other. We will be good neighbors and build bigger fences and bigger and badder weapons. We will be like this for a long while."

He did not refute this statement, just as he had not refuted the last, or any of the others in this impromptu rendezvous. The other looked at him sadly with those burning eyes as he got up. They both knew he would not return through those doors until the next world meeting; just as they knew the next time they spoke would be words of anger.

* * *

He hated that man.

Hated him with a cold icy hate that never thawed.

He hated how that man could enter a room. Everyone would stop and turn to that man. Like those oh so precious sunflowers, they would focus on that man.

He hated how that man would glare at him with plasma-blue eyes that burned with an inner fire. That burning glower that made him forget, if only for a moment, the harshness of winter.

He hated how much he wanted to soothe that man's hurt. To take it away and keep him safe. Even as he wanted to be the one to destroy him. Body and soul.

* * *

He hated that man.

Hated him with a passion as hot as the deserts of his lands.

He hated how that man could enter a room. His very presence could freeze the marrow of those terrifying ghosts, but instead froze the marrow of the living.

He hated how that man would stare at him with those cold violet eyes that hinted at cracks in glacial ice. That cold smile that was anything but friendly, but made him remember when the cold wasn't so bad.

He hated how much he wanted to thaw that icy exterior. How he desired to melt the frozen heart held within. Even as he wanted to tear it from its home and crush it in his hands.

* * *

How they hated how they loved each other. For they knew that hate was only the extreme of love and only a violent hate such as theirs would create such a twisted mockery of love.

* * *

**Translations**:

товарищ Америка----------------------------------------------------------- Comrade America

Мать России--------------------------------------------------- --------------- Mother Russia

Поэтому упрямый--------------------------------------------------- --------So stubborn

I, должны исправить. ------------------------------------------------------ I should fix that.

глупых Америки-------------------------------------------------------------- Silly American

врач------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Doctor

№ Пребывания. Прослушивание--------------------------------------- No. Stay. Listen.

Товарищ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Comrade.


End file.
